


lvoe peoms

by cant



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Multi, ciaran jumps to conclusions, its basically that stupid surprise party plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 22:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12827676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cant/pseuds/cant
Summary: What Ciaran says roughly means "thank you" and "darling" respectively





	lvoe peoms

Morning was crying again. It was something Ciaran was kind of used to by this point, but it never failed to worry him. He’d spoken to Sunrise about it a lot, but she shared mostly the same view of it - Morning was sensitive, and if he wasn’t ready to talk about what was upsetting him then it was best not to pressure him. 

One time, however, Ciaran couldn’t stand it. Morning was upset over dinner, to the point it was making it a little awkward. He was obviously trying to hold back tears, trembles in his hands and his frown almost painful to watch. They’d been sitting in silence for a while. 

Ciaran couldn’t take any more. “Morning, if you’re upset about something, just tell us.” 

Shocked, Morning looked up, his face like a rabbit caught in headlights. He looked from Ciaran to Sunrise and back again, then back to Sunrise, who looked just as confused as Ciaran felt. 

“Sunrise,” Morning hissed eventually, watery eyes looking briefly to a stunned Ciaran before avoiding him entirely. “I need to ask you something.” 

Sunrise spluttered for a moment. “Wh- uh- y- yes, I- sure.” 

Ciaran tried not to feel hurt, but it was hard. Morning normally told him all sorts of things - that boy worried about a lot - but it seemed that this one wasn’t something he was allowed to be involved in. It felt strange, almost like the jealousy he’d experienced when Morning had first come into the house and Sunrise had given him the look of a woman who’d only just seen the sunlight. 

“Child, you can tell me anything, like,” he said, his voice sounding strange in his head. 

Morning just shook his head, picked up his plate and walked out of the room with it. 

Sunrise turned to look at Ciaran, eyes wide with confusion. She shrugged. 

 

It only got worse. Morning would tell Sunrise things and get hushed when Ciaran appeared. He would pretend not to have been saying anything and look at the floor. It was annoying, but Ciaran began to feel better about just ignoring Morning altogether. 

 

A few days later, it was getting on his nerves again. Ciaran had been staring at his ceiling for about half an hour now, wondering what he’d done wrong and why Morning wouldn’t just _tell_ him, and why Sunrise wasn’t saying anything. 

Morning came into his bedroom and Ciaran turned over. “Ciaran,” he said. 

“What.” 

Morning pretended not to be offended and awkwardly shuffled in, coming to sit on the end of his bed. “Um, I- I know I’ve been distant recently. Sunrise was helping me with something. I- It’s for you.” 

Ciaran, intrigued enough, sat up and looked at Morning coldly. He’d been giving him the cold shoulder for days now, and he wanted Ciaran to just say thanks and forget about it? “What is it?” 

Morning shuffled even more awkwardly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He held something behind his back, and Ciaran could see the tension in his shoulders. “Sunrise said-” 

“What did Sunrise say?” Ciaran snapped, hurt and offended now. What did Morning think would be the outcome of whispering behind his back all the time? “Gods know she hasn’t told me anything.” 

Morning said nothing for a moment, his expression unreadable. He stood in the middle of Ciaran’s room, looking like he was going to burst into tears again. He’d been bad recently. Sunrise had told him that much, at least. She’d told him to ‘be patient with him’, and he’d gone and made the kid cry. Morrigan help him. 

Ciaran sighed heavily and shifted over in his bed. “Sorry,” he said, pulling up the blanket to let Morning sit next to him. “What do you have with you?” 

Morning immediately lit up. The tears were gone, the tension gone, and the room felt lighter. “Thank you,” he breathed, rushing over to flop onto Ciaran’s bed and pull out a piece of paper. “I- Sunrise told me it was your birthday. Um, or something.” 

Ciaran shrugged. He didn’t know when his birthday was, really, so they’d just decided on a date. “Aye.” 

Morning’s grin was kind of infectious. Ciaran found himself smiling despite his irritation before. “So,” he began, taking a deep breath as though he were about to give a lecture, “I made you this. It’s kind of- I- Well, I- I’d read it to you but it would be annoying, so I was just gonna leave it here and go, y’know? So if you-” 

Ciaran shut him up by sliding an arm around his waist and holding him close. He took the paper - it had a nice fragrance to it, as though it were charmed with something - and it only took him one glance over the terrible spelling and the scrawled handwriting to know what it was. 

His heart must have stopped, because he didn’t know what to say or how to breathe any more. Then, almost choking on his own words: “you- you wrote this?” 

Morning was blushing, squirming in his arms. Luckily, Ciaran was stronger. “Well, Sunrise kind of wrote most of it. I didn’t- I asked her for help on the spelling and, uh... Most of it. She wouldn’t let me dictate to her.” 

“So... _You_ wrote this? For me?” 

Morning was getting exasperated. “For the last time, _yes_.” 

Ciaran could barely read himself, suddenly. All he could see was the love, the effort, the heartache that had been poured directly from Morning’s too-big heart onto the page. He could feel the frustration because he saw it every time Morning tried to sit down and read something before leaving in a huff to punish himself with cigarettes or to break down in an angry panic.

That was what it had been about. That was what those late nights, tired eyes and smelling like cigarettes had been for. That was why Morning had been close to tears too much; he’d been trying so hard, just for Ciaran to treat him like it was all for nothing. 

It must have been sad, wanting to write love poems when reading made your head burn. 

As usual, Morning could read his mind. He leaned in closer, fluffy blonde hair on his shoulder, looking down at the floor again, and murmured: “it sucks when you want to write poetry but you can’t read for shit.” 

Ciaran found himself laughing then, before he knew what he was laughing at, and Morning was gently punching him in the stomach to shut him up. “S- Sorry, I just- I’m not laughing _at_ you, I-” 

“You are,” Morning growled, managing to push him over and stand up. “I really tried, Ciaran. Don’t be such a dick.” 

Ciaran stopped laughing, managing to force it down until he was just smiling up at Morning. He felt warmer than he had in days. The paper in his hands made his fingers feel hot and shimmery, like they did when he performed magic, and he silently thanked every god he knew of that he had people in his life who made him feel this way. “ _Go raibh míle maith agat_ ,” he murmured, full of feeling. He meant it. He wanted to thank Morning in so many ways he didn’t even know where to begin. 

Morning knew what that one meant. His frustration melted away into a smile again. “Hey, Ciaran, I’m sorry if you felt... Ignored. I wanted to surprise you. And I wanted help but I couldn’t ask you, so I had to ask Sunrise not to tell you anything... Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Ciaran said softly, beckoning Morning back to the bed. He sat carefully, making sure to give Ciaran room this time. They were back on good terms. “I’m gonna keep it here. I’ll start a collection.” 

“Wait- you want more?” Morning asked, suddenly nervous. “I mean, I had so many ideas, I-” 

“Don’t worry yourself, now, _mhuirnín_. I can wait, like,” Ciaran murmured, leaning over to kiss Morning on the forehead. “I appreciate it. A lot. I can get you anything you want in return - name it.” 

For a second, Morning looked as though he were about to say no and run, but he hesitated. “Well,” he began, shrinking into Ciaran’s arms and heating up with a blush, “Sunrise’s birthday is soon, and if you could help me with some spelling...”

**Author's Note:**

> What Ciaran says roughly means "thank you" and "darling" respectively


End file.
